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Trapped

John T. Hitchner

How to get into their heads?
Where to begin?

How Leatherman returned from Iraq
and now lives in a tent in the woods?
Bring him a bottle of JD
and he’ll open up about life in the ‘sand box’.

How Motorcycle Man lives in a trailor
after two tours in Afghanistan,
a .38 caliber Colt within reach 24/7.
He knows it’s exactly four steps
from sofa to front door
just in case...just in case.

These guys matter.
So does Larry the cross-dresser.
So does Hamburger Man,
who invokes some unseen presence in the sky
as he walks the streets.

How to get into their heads?
What do I do?

I stare at empty notebook paper.
I stare at a blank screen.
Nothing happens, nothing comes,
nothing of real importance.
Trivia provides security:
keys arranged, loose change counted;
bills opened, checks written.
Things easy to control.

I think about Lenny and George,
Nick and Marjorie, Rabbit and Janice.
I know what I want to do,
what I want to say,
but when it comes out it’s all bananas,
and I’ve been there before.

I get out of my chair.
I think about Ernest on that warm July morning,
about the Old Man against his enemy.
I return to the empty page.
I have to.
I begin again.
There is nothing else.

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